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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163790">Modes of Address</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alacruxe/pseuds/alacruxe'>alacruxe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Boot Worship, Dom Ferdinand von Aegir, Established Relationship, Flogging, Humiliation, Kink Discovery, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sub Hubert von Vestra, Subdrop, no beta we die like Glenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:40:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alacruxe/pseuds/alacruxe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In any other head space, Hubert would be furious.</p><p>Like this, bound and bent and completely at Ferdinand's mercy, he feels nothing but ecstasy. Moreover, he wants more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>212</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Modes of Address</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hubert wants to make a comment about how ridiculous Ferdinand looks strutting around in his little jockey outfit, but the gag in his mouth leaves him mum. Ferdinand appears to have noticed his frustration, but it only widens the grin on his face. He lifts his riding crop thoughtfully to his chin, gives it a little tap, and chuckles.</p><p>"You look as though you have something you wish to say to me," Ferdinand says, waltzing a few paces forward. The click of his boot heels and the jingle of his spurs echo through Hubert's head as though it were a ballroom. "Perhaps, if you offer an adequate enough apology, I will permit you to speak."</p><p>Hubert wants to ask how in the world he's supposed to apologize if he can't exactly talk, but that's only yet another thing he can't say. Frustration seething across his brow, he only grunts, eliciting a chuckle from Ferdinand. "Yes, yes, I know. Your feeble mind simply cannot grasp the concept of a wordless apology. Not to worry. I am nothing if not a willing teacher."</p><p>Hubert watches as Ferdinand lifts one of his boots to eye level. He's balancing surprisingly well on one foot, considering the height of his heels. "Pay your proper respects, Hubert, and I will free your mouth." The man's expression changes from amusement to dark satisfaction as Hubert, no doubt visibly, makes the connection. "Ah, there. You now realize what must be done. Very good. Now lower your head."</p><p>It's hard to obey that order when his arms are bound tight behind his back and his thighs and calves are tied together to keep him kneeling. Hubert has never been a physical fighter, and his sense of balance is not nearly so practiced. He does manage to pitch forward somewhat, at least. Ferdinand hums in approval, but it must not be quite enough, because in a matter of seconds he's hooking his boot heel back behind Hubert's head and using it to drag him down lower and lower. It hurts, it strains both Hubert's neck and his knees, but ultimately it helps him get to where he needs to be, head on the ground, perfectly level with Ferdinand's other boot.</p><p>"Much better," Ferdinand coos, and the sound has Hubert's head feeling fuzzy. When he leans in and nuzzles Ferdinand's boot, it's like he's not even in control of his own movements. It just happens, as though he's been driven to do it either by instinct or by the hand of some invisible master. It feels so oddly satisfying, too, to just comply, to do as he's told with the promise of reward. Then again, he supposes it's not all that different from eagerly bowing to Lady Edelgard's whims for so many blissful years. Between the two pleasures, Hubert actually isn't sure which he prefers.</p><p>Ferdinand nudges Hubert's face with his boot and Hubert just continues to nose at it, wishing he could kiss or lick the shining leather. With his mouth still held so cruelly captive, however, the possibility is simply not there. It seems Ferdinand has realized this, too, thankfully enough, for he is soon kneeling down and untying the gag from around Hubert's head. "What do you say, Hubert?" Ferdinand says in the most condescending voice Hubert has ever heard come out of the man's mouth. It's strange that his reaction is neither revulsion nor defiance, but rather a sense of comfort. Like Ferdinand has just done him an incredible kindness.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he breathes, pressing a kiss to Ferdinand's ankle and nuzzling his heel. <i>Why</i> does that feel so satisfying?</p><p>"And to whom are you apologizing, Hubert?" Ferdinand gazes fondly down at him and reaches over to pet his hair, combing his fingers affectionately across his scalp. That's <i>so good.</i></p><p>"I'm sorry, Prime Minister," Hubert manages to say despite the incredibly distracting touch currently driving him mad with pleasure. "Thank you for granting your humble servant a chance to—"</p><p>"Now, now." Ferdinand gives Hubert's rump a hard tap with his riding crop, and that straightens him up faster than any verbal command. A good thing, that, considering his back and knees had been starting to hurt from holding that position. "Did I give you permission to continue speaking, Hubert? I do not believe I did."</p><p>"N-no, Prime Minister," Hubert stammers, feeling his breath escape him wholly as a sense of dread fills its place. There's the possibility he'll be punished with a gag again, or worse. The gag had been difficult enough to deal with on its own, but Hubert had caught a glimpse of the other implements Ferdinand had brought along to playtime, and he doesn't want to risk inviting those into the scene. The last thing he needs at the moment is a chastity device.</p><p>Blessedly, Ferdinand doesn't seem to have been offended enough to mete out any punishment, and Hubert is simply given a little pat on the head, followed by rhythmic strokes that make him feel more like a beloved hound than a proud member of the nobility. "Very true," Ferdinand murmurs. "But you have been such a good boy that I believe I can overlook this insolence. In fact, you deserve a reward."</p><p>The side of Hubert that has completely fallen into his role—that is, at this point, most of him—wants to thank Ferdinand, but the words catch in the back of his throat, and he thinks better of it. He has not, after all, been given permission to speak out of turn. Instead, he looks up at Ferdinand with wide, pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for the Prime Minister's favor.</p><p>"Such a good boy, Hubert," Ferdinand says, again in that condescending voice that makes Hubert feel small in such a weirdly pleasurable way. "You have earned yourself a treat. Come, take your fill."</p><p>Hubert watches as Ferdinand unbuckles his belt, and when he lowers his trousers enough for his cock to spring free, Hubert feels his mouth begin to water. His knees shift under him but he doesn't even register that he's crawling forward until he's right there in front of Ferdinand, lips caressing the side of his penis.</p><p>It's so <i>warm</i> beneath his lips, too, and so firm, and the resultant twitching when he flicks his tongue over a vein has a spark of mischievous delight flickering through him. He opens his mouth wider, engulfs that part of Ferdinand's cock with his lips, and suckles steadily, massaging it with his tongue. His eyes are closed, but he feels Ferdinand threaten to buckle, and he hears the sharp intake of Ferdinand's breath, and he knows he's doing a good job. Then again, why wouldn't he? Hubert knows Ferdinand's anatomy just as well as his own, and he knows what parts of him are especially tender.</p><p>Ferdinand is guiding him elsewhere, though, with a tightening grip in his hair, and Hubert has to pull back. He knows well enough where he's being led, and he doesn't have to be asked twice. With an obedient nod, Hubert dives forward and sucks the head of Ferdinand's cock into his mouth, licking away at the slit and swallowing the bitter taste of precum. Ferdinand is praising him, both verbally and with the adoring strokes of his fingers, but Hubert is too focused on his work to pay much attention. What's more important is taking as much of Ferdinand as he can. And he does.</p><p>The glans bumps the back of his throat and Hubert simply swallows, letting it sink as deep as it can. He feels Ferdinand's shaky hand stroking at the front of his neck, no doubt admiring the bulge there, and Hubert hums, pushing and pushing until his chin is pillowed against Ferdinand's balls and his nose is buried in soft pubic hair. It's little more than a parlor trick, something Hubert can do to show off, but it's still something he knows Ferdinand likes, and he wants nothing more than to bring Ferdinand pleasure.</p><p>"Very good," Ferdinand husks, starting to rock his hips forward and back, holding Hubert down so he has nowhere to go. Not that Hubert would be going anywhere. He replies with a hum and a swipe of his tongue as he lets himself be manipulated, lets Ferdinand simply guide his head to where he wants it. It's not as forceful as it could be—Ferdinand clearly still lets his conscience get in the way of his more carnal desires, even like this—but it's rough enough to keep Hubert thrilled, to keep him riding the high that always comes with being dominated and forced to do the bidding of another.</p><p>Hubert feels like he could come like this, tied up and untouched, just from the secondhand pleasure of fulfilling Ferdinand's desires, but the sudden sharp withdrawal of Ferdinand's cock from his throat has Hubert knocked askew, his head space shattered. He blinks open his eyes in confusion but has his answer soon enough: Ferdinand is already moving behind him, adjusting him, knocking him down at the front and pulling his knees back to prop his ass in the air.</p><p>Hubert is completely exposed like this, unable to move with his arms bound tight and his legs held fast. He can't even look behind himself from this angle. A momentary flash of fear sparks through his brain and is just as soon dispelled; he knows Ferdinand would never hurt him, at least not permanently. He just has to relax.</p><p>Right as he's about to relax, though, he feels a sudden blunt pressure against his rim. It's wet, and it's slick, and it takes a moment for Ferdinand to really position it just right; but when he gets the angle, and pushes, and <i>keeps</i> pushing, Ferdinand slides in deep in a single thrust, meeting very little resistance.</p><p>Hubert has to just take a moment to breathe, because it <i>burns</i> without any prior stretching, but the feeling of fullness is too good to resist. He clenches just to feel it, to feel how wide he's been stretched, and he's rewarded with a jolt of sweet pain that shoots straight to his cock and has it <i>dripping</i>. He thinks he hears Ferdinand say something behind him, something disapproving, but he's barely even processed the implications of that tone before he feels a harsh sting on his flank: the riding crop, slapping down against his skin.</p><p>There's a certain indignity that comes with being subject to the wrath of an implement intended for use on an animal. In any other head space, Hubert would be furious.</p><p>Like this, bound and bent and completely at Ferdinand's mercy, he feels nothing but ecstasy. Moreover, he wants more.</p><p>"Please," he gasps, pushing back as best he can, trying to drive Ferdinand's cock deeper into his ass. He wants to be ruined, beaten, humiliated, made to feel like he's nothing; and it's such a strange, almost frightening feeling, but he doesn't think he's ever felt something so strongly in his life.</p><p>"Please, what?" Ferdinand grunts, fucking into him hard enough to make him <i>keen</i>. He can only whimper in reply, and that earns him another hard switch from the crop. Fuck, how is he meant to respond to this?</p><p>Hubert feels his lips move, but he doesn't understand what he says. He doesn't think Ferdinand does, either, because there's another sharp slap on his ass, one that he swears he hears echo. "What is it, Hubert?" Ferdinand's grown cocky, because there's that tone to his voice that he uses when he's boasting, or proposing a challenge, or threatening a foe in battle. Hubert wants to seethe, but instead, he's moaning like a whore. "Beg for it. Tell me what you want from me."</p><p>"Harder!" Hubert finally manages to cry, his voice gone hoarse. The words tumble forth from his lips like water boiling over from a pot. "P-please, Prime Minister, hit me harder! Fuck me harder!"</p><p>"Oh goddess," Ferdinand huffs, his grip growing tight on Hubert's hip as he steadies himself. It's not hard to tell that his composure is slipping. Even with his mind in its hazy state, Hubert can still manage to take pride in that.</p><p>It's a pride that doesn't last much longer. Ferdinand's fucking him so hard and fast that Hubert can't focus on anything but that—until the crop strikes him harder, louder, and the pain left behind is all he knows. The lower half of his body is nothing but white-hot agony, and it hurts enough that he's almost numb from it, and it just won't stop, but he doesn't want it to stop, he wants more pain, more pain, more more more—</p><p>Hubert doesn't even recognize his own voice when he cries out in ecstasy, his orgasm completely shattering him. He's only distantly aware that Ferdinand's gone still behind him, that they're pressed hip to hip. He can't even care about any of that when he feels like he's being burned alive.</p><p>When the moment passes and Hubert's caught his breath, he at least has enough presence of mind to understand what's going on when Ferdinand disengages from him and moves away and goes to get something. Being left alone feels <i>crushing</i>, even for the short amount of time that passes, and when he sees Ferdinand come close again with supplies in hand, Hubert just wants him to drop everything and hold him tight and never, ever leave.</p><p>Ferdinand drapes something over him—a towel, or a blanket, or something to that effect—and Hubert feels the tension around his arms and legs abruptly loosen. Ferdinand catches him before he can fall and pulls him into his lap, cradles him there and pets his hair. "Easy, now," Ferdinand murmurs, tugging Hubert up, encouraging him to rest his head on his chest. "You are safe, darling. I promise."</p><p>The pet name is ridiculous enough to briefly kick Hubert out of his drop, and he manages a shaky little laugh. He's crying, he realizes, and it's the ugly kind. He has to be making a mess of Ferdinand's finery. Hubert wants to say something about that, maybe something like an apology or a promise that he'll do the washing, but words aren't coming at the moment. They probably won't for some time.</p><p>"Let us get you to bed," Ferdinand says, hefting Hubert up into his arms so effortlessly that it's almost breathtaking. He feels himself being carried across the room, out into the hall, through another door. Ferdinand's brought them to his bed chambers.</p><p>Hubert just closes his eyes and does his best to relax, and when he's lowered into bed, he curls against it, finding peace and comfort in being small for a while. Ferdinand remains at his side but brandishes a bottle—probably one he'd grabbed when he'd gone to get the blanket and the rope shears—and holds it up in front of him. Water, most likely.</p><p>Hubert doesn't really have the coordination to open it, or to hold it and tip it back for a drink. Thankfully, Ferdinand does all of that for him. It has to be strange for him to see Hubert so vulnerable like this. At least he hasn't made any disparaging comments. If anything, he's rising to meet the challenge. Typical Ferdinand von Aegir.</p><p>Time passes. Hubert isn't sure how long it is before he feels like he's back to normal again. The shakes subside, the tears dry, and he finds his voice. He can only hope he wasn't too much of a burden during all of it.</p><p>"I suppose we've both learned some things about ourselves today," he muses with a dark little laugh, leaning heavily against Ferdinand's chest. "Ourselves, and each other."</p><p>"Indeed." Ferdinand leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, and Hubert feels a beautiful warmth bloom out through his whole body. That does include, of course, his absolutely ruined ass cheek, which truly smarts. Even with the little bit of healing magic Ferdinand worked on it, it'll probably be swollen and bruised for a while. Not that Hubert's really complaining. It's a good kind of pain.</p><p>"We'll be doing this again, I hope," Hubert says, not a question but an expectation.</p><p>Ferdinand seems taken aback, judging by his blush and subsequent bout of laughter. "Right! Yes, yes, of course. I...had worried that perhaps I had overdone things. I am glad to hear that you still enjoyed everything."</p><p>"You gravely underestimate me," Hubert grunts. "You have my full permission to be rougher next time."</p><p>Ferdinand looks like he's just been presented with a newborn foal. It's a little bizarre, considering the topic of conversation, but Hubert is glad to see that he's happy about it, at least. "I look forward to playing again, then. But perhaps we should wait a while. You deserve a chance to recover."</p><p>"Mm." Hubert doesn't fully agree, but he's also not stupid. "A short break, then. And perhaps, in the interim, we can enjoy a switch of roles."</p><p>Ferdinand makes a sort of choking sound. "Y...yes," he says. "Perhaps."</p><p>Hubert just chuckles. They'll see soon enough.</p>
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